With Every Crash Of Every Wave
by Strawberry Bunny
Summary: UPDATED! *Life As A House fan fiction* Sam's life has just taken a turn for the worse. Can Kate save him? (Not really a romance.)
1. Prologue: George's Legacy

Disclaimer: I do not own any of the original characters from "Life As A House." The only characters I own are Kate and her family. Also, the prologue of this story doesn't belong to me. It belongs to the guy who wrote the script for the movie, Mark Andrus. With all that in mind, enjoy my story!  
  
  
  
  
  
  
  
Prologue: George's Legacy  
  
*~ So this is who I am ~ And this is all I know ~ And I must choose to live ~ For all that I can give ~*  
  
  
  
"The change can be so constant. And you don't even feel a difference until there is one. It can be so slow that you don't know that your life is better or worse, until it is. Or it can just blow you away and make you something different in an instant. It happened to me. . ."  
  
"I always thought of myself as a house. I was always what I lived in. It didn't need to be big. I didn't even need to be beautiful. It just needed to be mine. I became what I was meant to be.  
  
I built myself a life. I built myself a house.  
  
With every crash of every wave, I hear something now. I never listened before. I'm on the edge of a cliff, listening.  
  
Almost finished.  
  
If you were a house, Sam, this is where you would want to be built. On a rock, facing the sea.  
  
Listening. LISTENING." 


	2. Don't Go

CHAPTER 1: Don't Go  
  
*~ I drank your poison 'cause you told me it's wine ~ Shame on you if you fool once ~ Shame on me if you fool me twice ~*  
  
  
  
"Alyssa, please!" Sam begged. "Don't go."  
  
"Oh, I see how it is!" Alyssa yelled. "It's perfectly alright for you to neglect me and turn to pot, but I can't leave you! Give me one good reason why I should stay, asshole! I HATE YOU!!!" She swiftly slapped Sam's face as hard as she could. Then she shoved him away with all her strength. The force had sent Sam sprawling back, shattering a small wooden table in the process.  
  
"NO!!! Alyssa, please," Sam pleaded, gingerly touching his face where it had turned red. "Please calm down and I'll explain. I just want things to be right again between us."  
  
"NO SAM!!!" Alyssa snapped. She kicked Sam in the ribs; wanting to express her intense anger, while at the same time, cause more physical pain to the rangy body that was lying among the sharp timber splinters. "You shut up and listen to me! I thought I knew you! I didn't know that you were such a pathetic fag! You mean nothing to me! You don't mean anything to me now, and guess what?! You never did!"  
  
"Alyssa," Sam groaned, wincing at the pain in his side as he shakily rose to his feet. "Don't go. You know I love you and you mean the world to me."  
  
"YOU MEAN HELL TO ME!!!" Alyssa shrieked, angrier than she'd ever been in her life. Her severe anger had obviously caused her to beat out Sam in a scream-fest, which normally wasn't humanly possible. "And what makes you think that I loved you back?! Huh?! Well, here's a taste of reality for you: I don't love you! I never have, and I never will! Did you assume that I loved you just because we showered together and made out several times?"  
  
"My dad's house," Sam replied, desperately trying toughen up. "You helped with my dad's house last year."  
  
"That was out of pity! HA! I felt sorry for George! The truth is, Sam, your dad was a pathetic failure! Sure, he was motivated enough to build a house in four months, but he was still a failure! It's SUCH a crying shame: like father, like son." Alyssa paused, allowing that cold, merciless statement to slash Sam's heart like a thousand knives. "His life was worthless, just like the house he built with you," she continued. "You had a lousy grandpa and a lousy dad. Yup, Sam, you come from a long line of lousy. It seems to run in your family. And you know what? The only thing your dad was decent at was kissing!"  
  
"WHAT?!" Sam cried out, the distraught look on his sore face provoking more of Alyssa's wickedness.  
  
Alyssa smirked. "That's right! I French kissed your dad only days before he died! And you know what else? Remember last Tuesday night when I said I was too sick to go out with you? I slept with Josh that night!"  
  
Sam was taken back by what Alyssa had just confessed, but finally, he was able to retreat from his vulnerable silence. "YOU SLUT!!! Josh was the one who fucked your mom!"  
  
Alyssa laughed spitefully. "Call me a slut if that makes you feel any better, but that doesn't change the fact that your dead dad kisses better than you and Josh fucks better than you!"  
  
"Go if you want!" Sam yelled through gritted teeth. "I don't need you!"  
  
"Oh, of course you do!" Alyssa retorted. "You know you're nothing without me. Before you met me, you were nothing but a worthless druggy with no future. In fact, you still are! Face it Sam, with or without me, you're still so pathetic that even the job of flipping burgers at McDonald's would be too good for you! Our society doesn't need any stupid druggies!"  
  
Just when Sam had regained his strength to verbally fight back, Alyssa took away his power once again.  
  
"So who are you gonna go crying to now Sam, huh? Your mommy?! And why isn't your precious daddy here to save you from mean ol' Alyssa? Oh, that's right! It's because he's dead! DEAD! As in burning in hell where he belongs!"  
  
"Shut up, stupid bitch," Sam said softly. His efforts to yell at her and "make her smaller" were all in vain. No matter how hard he tried, he simply could not yell at her. Sam didn't know if this was because she had turned him soft while they were going out, or if the brutal words she had said to him had torn him apart. Perhaps it was both.  
  
"Goodbye Sam," Alyssa said, without a hint of regret or repentance in her voice. Then she turned around and left Sam's house, slamming the door behind her. 


	3. Aftermath of a Broken Heart

CHAPTER 2: Aftermath of a Broken Heart  
  
*~ You left me with goodbye and open arms ~ A cut so deep I don't deserve ~ You were always invincible in my eyes ~ The only thing against us now is time ~*  
  
  
  
Sam stood motionlessly in the living room, staring at first the door that Alyssa had stormed out of, then at what was left of the fragile wooden table that she had shoved him into.  
  
He suddenly felt an intense throbbing on his right forearm close to his elbow. When he examined it, he discovered that one of the larger splinters from the broken table had sliced through his skin, leaving a wide gash on his arm. Tiny wooden splinters protruded from the open wound. Deep crimson blood flowed down his arm, like a river flowing into an ocean.  
  
The pain in his injured arm was severe, yet Sam had only noticed it now. Now blood was dripping onto the floor. Still, Sam barely gave it a mere thought, for nothing could have possibly hurt him more than the crushing words that Alyssa had said to him only minutes before.  
  
"You mean nothing to me! You don't mean anything to me now, and guess what?! You never did!"  
  
Don't let this wussy sentimental shit take over you, Sam thought to himself. You don't need her, you don't need her.  
  
". . .You know you're nothing without me. Before you met me, you were nothing but a worthless druggy with no future. In fact, you still are . . .!"  
  
Sam struggled to stop the haunting voices in his head. They just intensified and got louder with every breath he took.  
  
". . .I don't love you! I never have, and I never will! Did you assume that I loved you just because we showered together and made out several times?"  
  
You should have known better, Sam, another voice inside his head said. Why did you let her become the center of your world? You're an idiot! IDIOT!  
  
". . .I don't love you! I never have, and I never will. . .!"  
  
More blood trickled onto the floor.  
  
Sam felt his heart beat madly against his chest; his breath cut down into rigid gasps. He listened to the jeering voices in his head, poisoning his soul, lacerating his heart and shrieking like ravenous hyenas, eager to tear apart their vulnerable prey. He imagined the sound of shattering glass, as his already torn heart was shattered into a million pieces.  
  
Suddenly, Sam realized that he hadn't imagined the sound of shattering glass. He looked down and saw that he had dropped an intricately designed picture frame, smashing the glass overlay. The frame contained a photograph of him and Alyssa. Sam felt tears of anger and heartache as the horrifying realization finally dawned on him.  
  
That picture had been taken at George's funeral.  
  
". . .Your dad was a pathetic failure. . .! It's SUCH a crying shame: like father, like son."  
  
Sam willed the tears away. Yeah, as if crying is gonna help! he thought. At that point in time, he wanted more than anything to dash to Alyssa's house and smash all of the windows with heavy rocks. He wanted to hear her scream in terror while sharp debris flew around her. But no, how could he? Sam still loved Alyssa through it all and no way was he going to let himself cause her pain the way she did to him. Sam felt his head go numb. He didn't know what to think anymore. He couldn't cry, couldn't scream, couldn't run away. Instead, he picked up the largest shard of glass and ran his forefinger around the razor-sharp edge. Perfect. He absentmindedly let the piece of glass slice through the flesh on his left arm.  
  
A new wave of pain pulsated through Sam's left arm. He grimaced at his arm as a line of blood appeared. The sudden wave of pain awoke Sam from his depressed trance-like state. . .only to be placed in another trance.  
  
Once again, Sam let the glass glide across his left forearm. More blood appeared. A maniacal grin slowly spread on Sam's face. The sight of his blood and the stinging pain combined together were intoxicating. "No.ahhhhh." Sam moaned as the glass cut again. He was getting higher now than he did when he sniffed glue.  
  
Another cut. More blood.  
  
He felt his heart beat at an accelerated rate while his head felt lighter. The room seemed to spin around right before Sam's eyes. Various objects blurred into a series of colors. Sam watched as the colors seemed to close in on him, constricting him until there was no air left in his strained lungs. Any second now, and Sam would collapse onto the floor, losing consciousness. His body violently swayed from side to side and his unsteady feet took two small steps forward. . . straight into a pile of glass.  
  
"AHHHH! SHIT!" Sam howled, recovering from his wooziness. Finally aware of his surroundings and what he was doing, Sam dropped the ruby stained piece of glass onto the floor. "What the fuck did I do?!" Sam said aloud. He looked around the living room, focusing his attention on the floor. It was obviously a horrific mess. Wooden splinters, pieces of glass, and blood were everywhere. Blood. So much blood. Sam abruptly felt sick to his stomach as he stared at his arms. His right forearm was pretty bad and his left forearm was basically torn to ribbons.  
  
Sam quickly glanced down at his watch. 8:30. His family would be home soon.  
  
Sam tentatively limped out of the living room, leaving a trail of bloody footprints. He returned with his wounds fully cleaned and bandaged. He had put on a sweatshirt and socks to hide the bandages. Then he quickly got to work, determined to clean everything up before his family got home.  
  
First, Sam grabbed an old rag from the kitchen to wipe the blood off the floor. His blood. Sam trembled at that thought. Then he carefully cleared the broken picture frame and the glass off the floor. When Sam saw the photo of him and Alyssa, he hesitated, thinking of how perfect things were between the two of them when that picture was taken. It had been taken at George's funeral and at that time, Sam could always rely on Alyssa for anything and everything. She was his support, his best friend, his one and only love, his. . .  
  
Sam shook his head as he tore the photo into pieces. He placed the remains of the photograph into a paper bag, along with the glass and the broken picture frame. He tossed the bag into the garbage can. Sam knew deep within his heart that he had also thrown away the "love" he and Alyssa had once shared. For good. 


	4. You Gain Hate By Expressing It

CHAPTER 3: You Gain Hate By Expressing It  
  
Author's Note: Sorry I took so long to update this. Major writer's block.  
  
  
  
*~ Surrounded by familiar faces without names ~ None of them know me or want to share my pain ~ And they only wish to bask in my light, then fade away ~*  
  
  
  
Sam took one final look at the remains of the wooden table before deciding that it was probably a good idea if he cleared it off the floor before his family got home. "Goodbye Alyssa, goodbye," he whispered over and over again.  
  
Suddenly, the front door creaked open. They were home. Well, life sure was good, Sam thought sarcastically. Better enjoy what's left of it since I only have three seconds left before my parents kill me.  
  
"Sam! We're home!" one of his brothers, Adam called out. Sam shook his head as he heard footsteps approaching, closer and closer.  
  
Three, two, one. . .  
  
"SAM! What in God's name happened here?!" Peter, Sam's stepfather yelled, focusing his sight on the shattered table.  
  
Sam glared at his stepfather but no words came out of his mouth. He simply shrugged.  
  
"That table was expensive!" Peter continued, ignoring his stepson's indifference. "Do you have any idea how hard it is for me to work hard enough to provide you and this family with the best things I can afford?! Do you even appreciate what I do for this family, you ungrateful rascal?!"  
  
"Adam, Ryan, go to bed," Robin, Sam's mother said.  
  
"But mom. . .!" Ryan started to protest.  
  
"Go to bed now," Robin said again.  
  
"Mom, we wanna see Sam get yelled at," Adam added.  
  
"Boys, please," Robin pleaded.  
  
"Okay fine," Ryan grumbled as he and his brother trotted up the stairs. "This already looks and sounds better than the movie we saw."  
  
As soon as Adam and Ryan went to their bedrooms, Robin focused her attention on her son and husband.  
  
"You're getting all fuckin' pissed at me just because of some stupid table?!" Sam yelled.  
  
"This is not even about the table!" Peter retorted. "It's all about how you're not responsible enough, even at your age! How old are you now? Sixteen? Seventeen? Your mother and I expect you to be mature, so we are able to trust you! And we leave you alone for one afternoon and you trash our house?!"  
  
"Would you just listen to me?! I. . ."  
  
"Sam, shut you cakehole and listen to me! If you don't like the way I lay down the rules for this household, you can just leave!"  
  
"Fine! Maybe I will! I hate being part of this shitty family anyway!"  
  
"See if I care!"  
  
"Stop it!" Robin cried. Peter and Sam stared at her. "Please, please. . .just stop."  
  
"And what do you suppose we do about this son of yours?" Peter asked angrily.  
  
"Haven't you ever considered talking to him? He is only seventeen. He's bound to make mistakes. He's still at that age when he thinks he can make decisions on his own, but the truth is, he still needs guidance from both parents."  
  
"That's right Mom," Sam muttered. "Your baby boy is only seventeen. He's still not old enough to walk without Mommy and Stepdaddy's hands."  
  
"Don't you dare talk to your mother like that!" Peter raged. "Why don't you just. . .Robin, I thought you said that the summer he spent with your ex- husband would benefit him."  
  
"I really hoped it would," Robin replied sadly.  
  
"But of course, not even the almighty George could fix his own son," Peter mumbled.  
  
". . .Your dad was a pathetic failure. . .It's SUCH a crying shame: like father, like son."  
  
"Sam, what happened today?" Robin asked gently.  
  
Sam hesitated for several moments. "WELL?!" Peter snapped.  
  
"Alyssa and I broke up."  
  
"WHAT?!" Robin gasped. "Sam! How did this happen?! Why did you two break up? Alyssa was such a sweet girl!"  
  
Sam rolled his eyes.  
  
"So what happened Sam?" Peter asked. "Did you let your ridiculous temper get the best of you? You weren't thinking when you dumped her, were you? Was your head too full of pot smoke for you to think clear?!"  
  
". . .You know you're nothing without me. Before you met me, you were nothing but a worthless druggy with no future. In fact, you still are. . ."  
  
Sam tried his best to ignore the burning voices in his head that threatened to take over again. "I didn't dump her," he said simply. The words were out of his mouth before he even thought about them.  
  
"You mean Alyssa was the one who dumped you?" Peter asked incredulously.  
  
"Oh my goodness. . .Sam! What on earth happened? I thought things were going so well between you and Alyssa! What happened, huh?" Robin asked.  
  
Sam shrugged even though his mind was screaming, She screwed me over, she cheated on me, and she was even self-righteous enough to think that SHE could reject ME! No way, nuh-uh! She did NOT reject me! I was the one who rejected HER! Yup, that's the way I saw it.  
  
"So Alyssa, sweet innocent Alyssa finally got some sense knocked into her. I knew she'd reject you one day," Peter sighed as he shook his head.  
  
"What did you do to make her so angry?" Robin asked. "Did you hurt her? Did you make her feel worthless? Tell me, Sam!"  
  
"I didn't. . ." he started to say.  
  
"Jesus. . ." Peter mumbled. "Sam, when are you ever going to learn?! "  
  
"What the fuck?! Alyssa the mega bitch dumps me and somehow you're both convinced that it's my fault? Tell me, PETER, cause I really need to know: WHY THE HELL IS IT MY FAULT THIS TIME?!"  
  
"BECAUSE IT ALWAYS IS!" Peter bellowed. "And Samuel, you will not address me by my first name, is that understood?! I know this is a hard concept for you to decipher, but you will treat me with RESPECT. Do you understand that, or do you need me to spell in out for you?!"  
  
"Sam. . ." Robin said in a quiet voice. "Listen to me. If you had enough sense to just use your head, even for a minute, you and Alyssa would still be together right now. Also, if you had just taken the time to listen to your inner voice, instead of acting like such a stubborn donkey. . ."  
  
"Oh, so now what Mom?!" Sam snapped. "Now you're calling me a mulish ass?! What's the deal with you people?! Does the whole world hate me now?!"  
  
"Don't you understand?!" Robin cried, fully losing her temper. "The whole world WILL hate you if you don't make sense of your actions and fix your attitude!"  
  
"Well, see if I care!" Sam raged. "The whole world can hate me and I'm perfectly fine with that! I have no problem with hating the world right back. And what better place to start than my own so called family?!"  
  
"Sam, please, just listen to yourself!" Robin sniffled.  
  
"Mom, do me a favor and just SHUT UP! And Peter, just leave me the fuck alone! I don't need either of you! I hate you! I hate both of you!"  
  
"STOP!!!"  
  
"I hate Ryan and I hate Adam!" Sam continued. "Mom, you should have had an two abortions so I wouldn't have had to deal with either of those lousy brats!"  
  
"I suppose you'd prefer if your mother had an abortion when she was pregnant with you, right?" Peter asked coldly.  
  
"You'd like that, wouldn't you, Peter?" Sam replied defiantly. Then, without another word, he stormed off to his room. Once he got there, he slammed the door as hard as he could and locked it. 


	5. The Mutual Decision

CHAPTER 4: The Mutual Decision  
  
*~ A lone pair of watchful eyes oversee the living ~ Feel the presence all around ~ A tortured soul ~ A wound unhealing ~*  
  
  
  
Sam's parents cringed as they listened to the all too familiar sound of a door slamming. "God, I hate it when he does that!"  
  
"We should all be used to it by now," Robin answered sadly. "One of these days, he'll slam the door so hard that the hinges will snap and we could easily go in and out of his room to check up on him."  
  
Peter gave his wife a cold, hard look. Robin shrugged. "I just don't know what do about that son of yours anymore," Peter sighed. "It's just too much for this family."  
  
"Peter," Robin said. "He's your son too. Well, maybe your stepson, but still your son nonetheless. So, what do you propose we do?"  
  
"Robin, you know him better than I do," Peter replied. "You've noticed that the boy and I just aren't compatible. You're his mother. Anything concerning him will have to be your own decision."  
  
"You must be joking! Peter, if you recall, who was the one who decided that it was best for Sam to stay at George's place last year?"  
  
"Uh. . .I do believe George himself was the one who arrived on that decision."  
  
Robin groaned. "Alright, alright, so maybe you're right. George did make that decision for me when all I did was protest. But you never even had a say to what would happen to Sam that summer, did you?"  
  
"No Robin, I did not," Peter answered tersely.  
  
"See?! Don't you understand? Just because I'm his mother doesn't mean that I have to make every decision that concerns him."  
  
"Well forgive me, but I would help you make some decisions if I only knew what to do about that boy. . ."  
  
"Sam," Robin said softly.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Sam," Robin repeated. "His name is Sam."  
  
"Yes, I know that, but. . ."  
  
"He is your stepson and every bit of your responsibility just as he is mine," Robin interrupted. "When you married me, you agreed that me having a son from a previous marriage would not be a problem."  
  
"It didn't seem like it would be a problem," Peter answered. "But of course, back then, I never expected Sam to be such a huge burden on me, you, and all of MY children."  
  
"Neither did I," Robin said sadly. "Please Peter, help me. I'm just as lost as you are. I can't make this kind of decision on my own."  
  
For a long time, nobody spoke. Then, Peter broke the piercing silence by saying, "Last year Sam stayed at George's for the summer. I admit, I didn't think it would help at all. I was just glad that I could have at least one summer away from him. Why don't we have him stay at someone's house this summer?"  
  
Robin glared at her husband incredulously. "That's your idea of making things better for this family?! You want to send him away?"  
  
"That way, neither of us would have to deal with him," Peter explained. "Look, it's not like I want to get rid of him completely, it's just that I believe that if Sam spends some time away from us, like he did last summer, whatever might be bothering him right now might blow over as if it never happened."  
  
Robin was speechless. Peter continued, "You remember how Sam was shortly after George died? That Sam was the stepson that I could actually tolerate. It was as if he became a whole new person. He changed, Robin. It should be able to happen again."  
  
"And what if it doesn't? How do you know that the time he'll spend away from us will make him a better person? How do you know that it just won't make things worse?"  
  
"Because we have no other choice," Peter said simply. "Besides, Adam and Ryan won't want to have to deal with his crankiness, you don't want to anymore, and neither do I. We've had enough, Robin. It's time that somebody else gets to deal with him."  
  
After awhile, Robin said, "Okay, although I realize this decision is inevitable, how much thought have you really given it?" She paused to stare at her husband's confused expression. "Look, the stay he had at George's last year benefited him. Now that George has unfortunately died, who do you suppose Sam can stay with?"  
  
Peter shook his head and sighed. "You're right, I haven't really given this idea much thought. All I know is that we have to do it. Just give me some time. I know I'll come up with someone who'll be willing to. . . Wait. . ."  
  
"Wait what?"  
  
"I got it! He could stay at Debra's place!"  
  
"Uh, who is Debra?" Robin asked suspiciously.  
  
"She's my co-worker. We dated a while back," Peter admitted. "But don't worry, that was a really, really long time ago and she's been married to this man named Joseph for seventeen years."  
  
"How well do you even know this woman? Even though you did go out with her years ago?"  
  
"Don't worry," Peter said. "She's a very nice woman. Your son will be in very good hands."  
  
"That's what I'm afraid of," Robin muttered.  
  
"What?"  
  
"Nothing. Anyway, how do you know she'll accept your request? If neither of us want to deal with Sam, what makes you think she'll want to?"  
  
"She owes me a favor," Peter answered. Robin gave him another suspicious look. "Don't ask. It's a long story."  
  
"Well, I've got time," Robin said. "As soon as you call Debra, you can explain everything to me."  
  
  
  
Author's Note: So, now Peter and Robin want to send Sam away for the summer. Is this the miracle they've been expecting for so long, or is it just a plan waiting to backfire? Find out when I update again! 


	6. Forgotten Happiness

CHAPTER 5: Forgotten Happiness  
  
*~ Close your eyes ~ Start a journey to a strange new world ~  
  
Leave all thoughts of the world you knew before ~ Close your eyes and let music set you free ~*  
  
  
  
Sam had no idea how long he had isolated himself behind a locked door. He simply sat on his bed in silence, desperately trying to rid his troubled mind of any thoughts. All he wanted was to not be able to feel anything - no pain, no guilt, and no shame. Sam narrowed his eyes as he looked around at the familiar clutter of his room. The shades pulled down to prevent irritating sunlight from streaking in, the Marilyn Manson posters on the walls, dirty clothes scattered all over the floor, CDs scrappily piled up on his dresser - this was his sanctuary, his refuge. He knew he could always find comfort in this place. Only now, it was different. Now this room that smelled of foul cigarette smoke and aerosol glue only seemed to add on to Sam's deep frustrations.  
  
And yet, what could he do? The world had completely turned its back to him. Who could he possibly turn to now that everyone has turned away? In desperation, Sam dug through the heinous clutter under his bed, trying to find a pack of cigarettes, an aerosol can, or a bottle of prescription drugs, but to no avail. He gave up his fruitless search, plopped down on his bed, and covered his face with a pillow.  
  
Sam closed his eyes as his mind began to wander. Suddenly, he was swept away to a whole different world, a world he had once known but had long forgotten.  
  
A vast azure blanket that seemed to engulf his lower body. A sweet saltiness stinging his eyes and mouth. The sound of water resonating as it hit the rocks.  
  
Stop it Sam! he inwardly screamed at himself. Stop it, stop it, STOP IT!  
  
However, he couldn't stop. The more he tried to silence his mind, the more he longed to be in that world, wherever it was. He didn't care how far it was or how hard it would be to find it. Sam was willing to do whatever it took to find his way to that unknown place of interminable bliss.  
  
Author's Note: So are you pissed off at me yet? LOL. I know I haven't updated this story in the longest time! Sorry about that. Also, I'm sorry about having this chapter so short! If my story is starting to suck, well.all I can say is that I'm trying. Hopefully it'll get better as I continue writing it. 


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